Scrambled Eggs

My relationship is in constant flux and it’s so stressful I feel as though I’m experiencing a constant panic attack.

Even as all of this unfolds, I am getting closer to my children. They are everything to me and absolutely what keeps me going everyday.

I don’t know what is going to happen from one day to the next at this point, but at least I have these awesome little guys to keep me smiling. I just want to be the best I can for them—always.

How dare this republic try to keep these idiots from catching a deadly illness! How dare we try and flatten the curve that would exponentially increase the death toll! This is all a socialist plot to keep the sheep in line!

My husband is the ultimate moron when it comes to politics and what is right and just and all this country should stand for. It’s astounding that we are even together now—but COVID makes it nearly impossible to rid myself of this infestation.

He is the epitome of dumb, white male that can’t understand anything remotely past his scope of experience. I’m mortified by his social media posts and horrified that I share two children with him.

Each day gets worse and worse as his mood with “being kept down by the man” get worse. I’m not sure if it’s mental illness or some sort of empathy chip that is absolutely missing from his brain.

He’s a selfish, egotistical child whose only concern is how often he has sex and how many guitars he can acquire.

I’m over it. So over it. When I finally get another job and the stay at home order has relaxed, I’m following through with the call the the attorney. His behavior is beyond preposterous and honestly, just plain dangerous.

We are the lucky ones though. We have resources to tide us over—so many people don’t have that luxury. I hope something productive comes out of this incredibly stressful and unique space in the history of humanity.

I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few weeks examining my situation and wondering how I could have done things differently. Absolutely futile, of course, but something to occupy an idle mind.

I come back again and again to my children. They are three and two and the most amazing creatures I have ever encountered. I don’t know how or why I was blessed with these two, but I am humbled and honored everyday.

It’s this intense love, this unbelievable sense of overwhelming responsibility that makes me feel more like a failure than I ever have. I want them to have an amazing life. I want them to experience the world with open minds, open hearts and and the want and willingness to embrace it all.

Yet everyday I feel like I’m failing. Failing them. Failing me—and the expectations I set for myself. Failing at every turn. Nothing is good enough or strong enough to hold back the wave of condemnation that floods me every morning when I open my eyes.

These times are so different and strange from anything society has encountered before. Yet my biggest challenge is still grappling with myself.

Between the young kids getting cabin fever and my growing distaste for my partner, I’m about to lose my shit with these people called family.

I’ve been unemployed since February and let’s face it--the world of employers is quickly shrinking. There’s so much uncertainty around everything--it absolutely is stretching my anxiety to the brink.

My partner is a stay at home parent so we are a one-income household already. Now we are a non-income household. I try to see the humor in all of this and I recognize this isn’t a permanent situation--but as someone who is on the older spectrum of life, this is about the most terrified I’ve ever been.

I lost my job in 2009 (the Great Recession) and I was out of work for 9 months. It was stressful, but I made it through. This time seems so much more scary. Not only am I the sole financial supporter of this family, but there are now six kids in the picture. 

I’ve been drinking way too much and eating a diet consisting of garbage for the past two months. And I am afraid. I do not want to face this situation and what it may look like in 4 months. I don’t want to think about the possibility we may lose the house or the cars, or anything. I don’t want to continue to feel like a failure.

At least once a week I receive very lovely “Thank you, but no thank you” response to my job applications. I’ve applied to at least 30 different places across the country in the past few months. I have a job coach that tells me I am doing everything right and that I am in a better place than most. 

This may be true. However, it doesn’t make the rejection any less difficult to bear. It doesn’t make the heartache and worry cease. I think my meds may be reaching their maximum capacity.